


it's all fun and games until uncle clint takes an arrow to the knee

by girl0nfire



Series: adventures of the soviet superfamily [3]
Category: Marvel, The Avengers - All Fandoms
Genre: Dasha Romanova-Barnes, Domestic Avengers, F/M, Gen, Help, I can't stop making Red Dawn jokes, soviet superfamily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-18
Updated: 2012-09-18
Packaged: 2017-11-14 13:41:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/515795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girl0nfire/pseuds/girl0nfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint teaches Dasha archery.  Perhaps this wasn't the greatest idea he's ever had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's all fun and games until uncle clint takes an arrow to the knee

**Author's Note:**

> A companion to [this precious drabble](http://starkspangledauntless.tumblr.com/post/31783693527/drabble-soviet-superfamily-straight-true) done by a friend on tumblr. You'll want to read that first.

To Clint’s barely-concealed elation, Dasha turns out to have quite the knack for archery. Soon, she’s consistently hitting every kind of target Clint brings by (although both Natasha and James veto the human kill-shot targets on sight), and her aim and posture are nearly perfect.

 

Sitting on the couch with Clint, Natasha looks up from the mission brief she’s reading and watches as Dasha hits three targets in a row, the suction-cup tips of the arrows making a small _pop_ as they attach to the wall. Dasha _loves_ these arrows; she’s loved them since she figured out that they’d stick to just about anything. It isn’t a rare sight to see three or four of them stuck to the front of the refrigerator, or Steve’s shield, or the faceplate of the Iron Man suit; really, nowhere Dasha could comfortably aim was safe.

Case in point: just last week, James had walked through SHIELD HQ for an hour without noticing the bright green-feathered arrow suctioned to the bicep of his cybernetic arm until one of the interns took pity on him and pulled it off. Some of the agents are still calling him Green Arrow behind his back, much to his chagrin.

Recently, Dasha has also taken to finding comfortable hiding places to shoot from, earning more than one of their houseguests a surprise suction-cup arrow to the forehead. It’s all in good fun, of course, no one gets hurt, and it’s never too difficult to find her if you want to; just listen for the telltale stifled giggles.

Natasha and Clint lose themselves in their conversation for a moment, going over the specifics of their next cover, and when they surface again, Dasha’s wandered off.

“I’ll go find her,” Clint volunteers, picking up their now-empty coffee cups and heading toward the kitchen. Holding a finger to his lips, he winks at Natasha and does his best James Bond-style crouching-spy hidden-idiot stalk toward the kitchen, holding the empty mugs near his face like a weapon. Natasha rolls her eyes, lifting her arms above her head in a stretch before she gets up to follow after Clint.

She’s just made it through the kitchen door before chaos breaks loose: 

Clint’s standing at the far counter, refilling their mugs, when Dasha bursts out from the cabinet beneath the sink, toy bow leveled at his legs and suction-cup arrow ready to fly. With a happy squeal, she looses it, landing a bullseye on Clint’s left kneecap and startling what can only be described as a screech from the man. Clint whips his head around, dropping one of the now-full mugs to the floor in his surprise and promptly slipping in the spilled coffee, landing hard on his back on the kitchen floor with a yelp.

Of course, to add insult to humorous injury, Dasha takes his sudden closeness as an opportunity to fire another arrow directly at his forehead.

Groaning, Clint pushes himself into a seated position, the pink-feathered arrow wobbling feebly from where it’s attached directly between his eyes. Reaching up to pull it off, Clint looks up at Natasha from his seat on the floor.

“That’s a hell of a future agent you’ve got there, Romanov.”

Natasha doesn’t even bother to try and stifle her laughter as Clint drags himself up by the counter, plucking the other arrow off his knee and rubbing at his lower back. Dasha watches him, eyes wide and a small frown on her face, worried. Clint reaches out and ruffles her hair, smiling at her.

“Good one, Dash. You sure got me.”

Another giggle, and then Dasha’s wrapping her arms around both of Clint’s knees and squeezing. Clint continues patting her head, tugging playfully on one of her pigtails.

“You should try it on Uncle Tony next time. And when you jump out, make sure you yell, ‘ _wolverines_!!’”

Natasha snorts out another laugh before she reaches for a kitchen towel to wipe up the spilled coffee. Looking over at the two of them, she smiles at the sight of Dasha retrieving her arrows from the floor.

“Good girl, Dasha. Your uncle’s right. And it’s extra points if you can land one on his arc reactor.”


End file.
